lists today
Jun. 8th, 2009 07:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sisalikThings that fit into the Fifty-Nine Cent Ikea Bag of Gigantitude*:
- Precisely one load of laundry, as determined by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bleukarma's washer, a bottle of soap, a trade paperback of one of the BEST NOVELS EVER, six DVDs, one CD, and a package of replacement Venus razor blades.
Or, if you dump all of that out:
- Me, with room to spare.
(Theoretically Riley will fit, since she's half my size, but I get the idea she won't let me try it.)
*First mentioned here.
Reasons I get excited every time the postman, the Fed Ex guy, and the UPS guy drive by:
- The shiny new flat monitor that is coming to replace this pieceashit that blurs out on me, unless it's my eyes doing that.
- The shiny new Dell computer where everything is new and will work that's coming to replace ol' Feverish Frankenstein here.
- The shiny new 500gb external hard drive so that I can back all my things up onto it and yay I finally have one.
- The not-shiny new hockey socks thatoregoonie told me I should get. What the fuck am I going to do with hockey socks? I ordered the kiddy ones because the sizing chart thinks that I am a twelve-year-old boy. The problem with this is that if you tell me I should do something because it'll be funny, I WILL DO IT. Especially if I'm tired. This is how I wound up owning Stormtroopers.
(As I was writing this, Dell emailed to inform me that the computer & external drive are now scheduled to ship on 1/1/0001. Doesn't that mean they'd be here by now?)
Now I need advice. My showerhead thinks it's funny to divert 25% of the water in a perfect arc over the top of the curtain and smack into the center of the three inch space between toilet and sink. I'm telling you, an inch to the right and I could leave the toilet lid up to catch the water. The rest of the water shoots out of approximately ten remaining holes in the rain-can head, with enough pressure to knock a nipple off. The water here is so hard you could hurt people with it. I have to dismantle the whole shower assembly every two or three months and soak it in LimeAway, and even then I have to scrub the showerhead with a nail brush before I get under it. This is what happens when all of your water is sucked out of a limestone aquifer.
I am considering just wrapping the pipe with that metal tape people use to fix freezers. My reasoning is thus: shortness + standing on tub edge + 2lb murder-weapon wrench + gravity = a tragic end, or at least a bathtub with a giant hole in the bottom. My stopgap measure has been to put a washcloth over the spraying part of the pipe, but that's... stopgap. Anyone have suggestions?
Lastly, Riley performs an emoticon --- :D
(Shot this morning when she finished her breakfast and proceeded to rub her face all over my bed. She has her own bed, yes. Riley's bed is new and too nice for wiping kibble-dust out of mudflap lips, so she does it in my ratty old non-Ikea bed instead. Punk. My dreams smell like Purina Chicken And Rice.)
Remind me, one of these days, to tell you about the massmarket paperback version of the Hitch-Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy that almost cost me fifty-five dollars.
- Precisely one load of laundry, as determined by
bleukarma's washer, a bottle of soap, a trade paperback of one of the BEST NOVELS EVER, six DVDs, one CD, and a package of replacement Venus razor blades.Or, if you dump all of that out:
- Me, with room to spare.
(Theoretically Riley will fit, since she's half my size, but I get the idea she won't let me try it.)
*First mentioned here.
Reasons I get excited every time the postman, the Fed Ex guy, and the UPS guy drive by:
- The shiny new flat monitor that is coming to replace this pieceashit that blurs out on me, unless it's my eyes doing that.
- The shiny new Dell computer where everything is new and will work that's coming to replace ol' Feverish Frankenstein here.
- The shiny new 500gb external hard drive so that I can back all my things up onto it and yay I finally have one.
- The not-shiny new hockey socks that
oregoonie told me I should get. What the fuck am I going to do with hockey socks? I ordered the kiddy ones because the sizing chart thinks that I am a twelve-year-old boy. The problem with this is that if you tell me I should do something because it'll be funny, I WILL DO IT. Especially if I'm tired. This is how I wound up owning Stormtroopers.(As I was writing this, Dell emailed to inform me that the computer & external drive are now scheduled to ship on 1/1/0001. Doesn't that mean they'd be here by now?)
Now I need advice. My showerhead thinks it's funny to divert 25% of the water in a perfect arc over the top of the curtain and smack into the center of the three inch space between toilet and sink. I'm telling you, an inch to the right and I could leave the toilet lid up to catch the water. The rest of the water shoots out of approximately ten remaining holes in the rain-can head, with enough pressure to knock a nipple off. The water here is so hard you could hurt people with it. I have to dismantle the whole shower assembly every two or three months and soak it in LimeAway, and even then I have to scrub the showerhead with a nail brush before I get under it. This is what happens when all of your water is sucked out of a limestone aquifer.
I am considering just wrapping the pipe with that metal tape people use to fix freezers. My reasoning is thus: shortness + standing on tub edge + 2lb murder-weapon wrench + gravity = a tragic end, or at least a bathtub with a giant hole in the bottom. My stopgap measure has been to put a washcloth over the spraying part of the pipe, but that's... stopgap. Anyone have suggestions?
Lastly, Riley performs an emoticon --- :D
(Shot this morning when she finished her breakfast and proceeded to rub her face all over my bed. She has her own bed, yes. Riley's bed is new and too nice for wiping kibble-dust out of mudflap lips, so she does it in my ratty old non-Ikea bed instead. Punk. My dreams smell like Purina Chicken And Rice.)
Remind me, one of these days, to tell you about the massmarket paperback version of the Hitch-Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy that almost cost me fifty-five dollars.
